What You Aren't Telling Me
by sincerelymendacious
Summary: An irritable hybrid plus a ditzy professor plus a relentless assassin equals one huge headache for Yvette Fountain. But that headache's going to be a whole lot worse if she can't get Augustine Sycamore back to his fiancè in one piece.
1. Chapter 1

This story is set 2 weeks after Decalcification. It is not necessary to read that story, but it is recommended. I own nothing.

"I know you're awake. Get the fuck up."

Yvette kept her eyes screwed shut, burying her face into the soft pillow. She hoped that Cerise would just let her be for a little while longer. Cerise had one of those super comfortable memory foam mattresses that Yvette wanted to sink into-preferably with Cerise next to her.

A pillow smacked her in the head, but Yvette refused to budge, hoping that Cerise would give up and wait for her to wake up on her own. No such luck. Cerise hit her again, harder this time. "Don't make me get Patrice in here," Cerise muttered, and Yvette sighed to herself, knowing that Cerise wouldn't hesitate to set the Granbull on her if she continued to pretend to be asleep.

Time for a different tactic. Yvette sat up slowly and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back. The sheets felt cool and silky on her bare skin. Yvette gazed at the woman who had just been bludgeoning her with pillows and gave her a sleepy, catlike smile. "Hey, babe," she said, exaggerating the breathiness in her voice. "You're looking real fine this morning."

It wasn't a lie. Cerise was one of those rare people that rolled out of bed looking flawless. Her pale, pink corkscrew curls were styled perfectly, and there was not a single shadow under her eyes, despite her late-night-early-morning sleep schedule. Her hands were on her round, ample hips, and the satiny lavender fabric of her robe was pulled tight across her breasts, the peaks of her nipples poking through the thin fabric. Yvette bit her lip, the desire to sleep replaced by the urge to stick her head between Cerise's thick, brown thighs.

"Your Grandmother's been calling you all morning," Cerise said, and the words killed Yvette's sex drive faster than a bucket of cold water. Cerise held up Yvette's phone and tossed the device onto her sheet covered lap. The screen read: 6 missed calls from OLD BAT. Each call had been spaced exactly twenty minutes apart, and Yvette knew she had seven more minutes before her Grandmother would attempt to call again.

Yvette sighed, irritated, and ran a hand through her long, messy black hair. "Who calls this early in the morning?" Granted, it was almost 11:15 right now, but Grandmother Dearest had been calling since 9:00 am. On a Saturday. Surely even her Grandmother would know that a cool, young stud such as Yvette would be out all night partying and thus wouldn't even think of answering her phone before 2:00 pm, right?

A pair of black leggings hit Yvette in the face as she was glaring at her phone, followed by her underwear and a white t-shirt. "You need to go. Like, right now," Cerise said, her plump lips turned downward in a frown. She bent over and retrieved Yvette's boots, mercifully opting to toss them at Yvette's side instead of throwing them at her head.

"Why? Because my Grandmother decided to blow my phone up this morning?" Yvette set the clothing aside and crawled to the edge of the bed, still naked. "She's just having a fit. Come back to bed. I know you don't have to open the bar until four." Yvette reached out and tugged playfully on Cerise's belt, fingers toying with the shimmery material.

Cerise snatched Yvette's wrist, her grip surprisingly strong for one who looked so cuddly. She wrenched Yvette's hand away from her robe. "If I let you stay here, you and I both know that your Grandmother's just going to track your ass down and start knocking down my door. How do you think it's gonna end for me if she catches you giving me head or something? Not well, for me or my business."

"You talk like she's psychic. She's not."

"She doesn't need to be. She's one of the most powerful women in Kalos. She's probably got some walls-have-ears kind of shit going on." Cerise jabbed at her with her index finger. "I'm not risking my bar just because you're being avoidant."

"I'm not being avoidant, I'm horny," Yvette muttered as she dressed herself. She held out the white t-shirt. It was twice the size of what she would normally wear. "This isn't my shirt."

"You can't walk home in a fish net top this early in the morning. You can borrow that one."

"How considerate." Yvette pulled the shirt over her head, the collar sliding down her right shoulder. "What about my boots? I'll break my ankle walking home in those things."

Cerise rolled her eyes and walked over to her closet. "Hold on. I think I have some flip-flops I don't wear anymore." She knelt down, rummaging through her numerous pairs of shoes.

Normally Yvette would take this opportunity to ogle Cerise's ass, but the circumstances had put her in a sour mood. "Still can't believe you're kicking me out like this. You have no idea what kind of shitstorm I'm about to walk into."

"Oh you poor, privileged baby."

Yvette snorted. "You're so unsupportive. No wonder Ronnie dumped you."

This time, Cerise did throw a boot at Yvette's head.

* * *

Yvette left through the fire escaped attached to Cerise's flat, not wanting to be seen leaving out of Cheri Bomb's main entrance so early in the day. Oddly enough, it turned out that only thing shadier than exiting a bar at half-past eleven in the morning was emerging from the alley next to it. Her bedraggled state hadn't helped matters. Cerise had rushed Yvette out of her flat too quickly to allow her time to brush her hair, so it was a tangled mess. Her t-shirt was too big, and her flip flops were too small. Her eyes squinted at the bright sun, and she could feel the shadows underneath them. To top it all off, she'd taken her small purse to Cheri Bombs last night, so she was forced to carry her top and boots out in the open.

Thankfully, Yvette's walk of shame was not going to last that long. Cheri Bombs was located on Magenta plaza, and Yvette's apartment building was in the street between the plaza and Autumnal Avenue, out of the way from where most pedestrians passed.

Her grandmother called again at 11:20, right on the dot. Yvette didn't answer, wanting to put it off for as long as she could. She knew that she'd have to answer eventually, but she was annoyed at being kicked out of Cerise's flat, and making her grandmother wait made Yvette feel marginally better.

The small satisfaction evaporated when she saw the sleek, navy car parked right outside her building. The driver was leaning against a streetlight, smoking a cigarette. Yvette groaned and walked over to him. Lavoine was a huge, hatchet-faced man who looked like he could easily lift the expensive car up over his head. He'd been in her Grandmother's service for decades, and Yvette had known him since she was a little girl. She used to follow him around when her dad was out on business, when she had been too young to go with him.

He looked up at her approach, laughing at her disheveled appearance. "Somebody had a rough night," he said, flicking the remains of his cigarette into the street.

"Please tell me that she's waiting for me in the lobby."

"No clue. I've been out here since eleven." He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook one out into his hand. "Bet you 10,000 yen she bribed your landlord into giving her a key."

"You know I don't have any money," Yvette said, eyes narrowed. "I thought you quit smoking."

Lavoine sighed and reluctantly slid the cigarette back into the pack. "Took it up again while waiting for you to show up. Quit stalling and go find out what Madam wants before I smoke the whole pack."

"Fine," Yvette said, walking past him to the door. "But I'm doing it for your sake, not hers."

"You're a real pal, 'vette."

* * *

If Yvette had 100 yen for every time somebody told her that she was the splitting image of her grandmother, she probably wouldn't be so consistently broke.

Elise Fountain nèe l'Aubespine looked, at age sixty-six, to be thirty years younger. Her hair was still jet-black and was styled in a neat chignon. She stood tall and unbent without the assistance of a cane and her figure was still as trim as it had been when she had been Yvette's age. The only 'flaw' in her golden-brown skin was the crow's feet that lined her dark eyes, but Yvette guessed that the wrinkles didn't bother her, otherwise they wouldn't be there. Her high cheekbones, narrow jaw, and full mouth were mirrored in Yvette's features, though her skin was a shade lighter and her eyes were much darker, almost black compared to Yvette's gold-hazel.

She stood out against the plain décor of Yvette's studio apartment like a Milotic in a pool full of Feebas. The dark blue, gold-buttoned blazer and skirt likely cost more than Yvette's rent. Yvette glared down at the matching three-inch heels and wondered what kind of black magic her grandmother used to look this well-put together before noon.

Her grandmother was looking at her with equal scrutiny. Her lip curled up in distaste. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you walking around like you just rolled out of bed. Still, you couldn't have at least brushed your hair?"

Yvette rolled her eyes, tossing her clothes and purse onto the couch. "I got kicked out of my friend's place because you freaked her out. She didn't give me time to make myself presentable." She leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed. "Just tell me what's so important that you had to break into my apartment."

"I did not break into your apartment. Your landlord was kind enough to give me a key after I explained my concern for my only grandchild."

 _And gave him a generous bribe. That fucking asshole._ Yvette chose not to continue this line of conversation in favor of moving things along. "What do you want? I've got a busy day ahead of me and I don't have time to stand here and talk." Yvette actually had nothing planned for today, but that nothing was still more important than getting yelled at about 'obligation' and 'responsibility' and 'ending this freelancer nonsense and doing something worthwhile.'

Elise sighed irritably and rubbed her temples. "I'm here to give you a gift. Of sorts."

Yvette stood up a bit straighter, reluctantly interested. A gift from Grandmother could be anything from financial assistance to an invitation to a stuffy gala she wouldn't want to attend. "Well, don't keep me in suspense. What is it?"

Elise's frown deepened, the lines at the corner of her mouth becoming visible. She seemed like she was about to call Yvette out on having made her wait three hours to talk to her, but thought better of it and simply reached into her stylish, black leather purse. To Yvette's surprise, (and slight disappointment) she did not pull out her checkbook or a wad of cash. Instead, she held a fancy Luxury Ball. The sunlight coming in through the window caught on the ball's gold and ebony plating, making it shine.

"What I have here," her grandmother began, barely restraining the excitement in her voice, "is the result of three years of carefully selective breeding. It's going to revolutionize the entire field of Pokémon genetics." Yvette moved back a bit as Elise released the creature inside.

The creature that materialized was…well, Yvette wasn't really sure what it was supposed to be, other than some sort of perversion of nature. It looked like a Scraggy, in that it had the same yellow and red color scheme, same large oval eyes, same overbite, and same scaly skin. But instead of the typical skinny body, this Scraggy was…fat. It was fat enough that the skin around its legs was tight instead of baggy, and the tail that should have been almost as long as its body was short and thin.

It also had eyebrows. Thick, feathery yellow eyebrows that made it appear comically angry when combined with its overbite. It scowled up at Yvette like it wanted to punch something hard in the face. _Well, I guess if I was a silly looking abomination, I'd want to punch something too._

She tore her gaze away from the strange, chubby Scraggy and looked at her grandmother's expectant face. "Uh…you could have just given me the money it cost to breed this guy. Would've saved you a lot of time."

Elise frowned again, disappointed that Yvette did not appreciate her gift. "I didn't breed him for you specifically. This Scraggy is a huge milestone for breeders and geneticists alike."

"How do you figure that?"

Yvette immediately regretted asking the question upon seeing the change in her grandmother's expression. The normal look of snobbish disdain had left her eyes to be replaced by a mad pride, and her frown had twisted upwards into a smug smile. _Oh boy. Crazy science rant coming in three, two, one…_

"For years, the most important consideration for Kalosian breeders has been the purity of a Pokémon's bloodline. The desire for purebreds has led to rampant inbreeding, which in turn, has caused health problems, infertility, and a general weakness compared to that of their wild counterparts." She clasped her hands behind her back, speaking with a genuine passion that Yvette begrudgingly admired. "But I believe that the only way to save the field from stagnating is to expand the gene pool out to different species."

"Hate to break it to you, but they've been cross-breeding different species for years in countries that don't have a weird obsession with lineage."

"Ah,' her grandmother chuckled, gesturing to the Scraggy. "They've only ever bred for abilities and attacks. I've gone much further with my experiments. I've been breeding for specific physical traits in order to create new, unique variations. Take Gilbert here for instance. He comes from a long line of Scraftys and Darumakas. His ancestors all started out looking like normal Scraggys, but as we continued breeding them with the Darumakas, they began to have thicker builds and with continued persistence, they too, began growing eyebrows similar to that of the Darumakas that sired them." Her voice had gotten louder as she lost herself in her accomplishments, and Yvette half-expected her to start cackling like a comic book villain. The Scraggy scratched his tummy, bored.

"That's great, Grandmother, really, good for you. But why are you giving this, uh…Gilbert, to me? Shouldn't you be auctioning him off to the nearest bidder? Or presenting him at some scientific dick-waving competition?"

The light in Elise's eyes faded at Yvette's interruption, and the frown was back on her face. She cleared her throat and said "I will be presenting his sister at the next Kalosian Society of Genetics meeting in July. But I have different intentions for you and Gilbert. You are still a Freelancer, correct?" The question was asked in her grandmother's usual tone of disapproval.

Yvette grinned toothily. "Yep, I'm still dragging the family name through the mud with my vulgar profession. Just like dear old dad."

"Hmm. Well, if you insist on continuing this juvenile rebellion, I may as well take advantage of it." Yvette scoffed at the rude dismissal of her career, but Elise ignored her. "Since your job takes you all over Kalos, I want you to take Gilbert along with you. His interesting appearance ought to elicit some question from your clients."

Yvette thought that the Scraggy's 'interesting appearance' was more likely to elicit laughter than questions, but she knew pointing that out would be useless. "So you want advertising, is that it?" She glanced down at the tubby creature, skeptical. "You realize that my job is dangerous, right? He doesn't exactly look like he can hold his own in a fight."

The words seemed to trigger something within the Scraggy, as the Pokémon's right fist began to glow bright red, smoke coming off of it. Before either of them could stop him, he pulled his fiery fist back and punched the couch, leaving a huge, smoldering hole in the middle of it. Flames danced along the edges of the hole, spreading along the cheap fabric. Yvette rushed over the fire extinguisher by her fridge and frantically put the flames out before they could consume the whole couch. Elise moved back against the kitchen counter, regarding Gilbert's destructive actions with more approval than she'd ever shown Yvette in her twenty years of life. Gilbert glanced around the apartment, looking for another piece of furniture to wreck.

Yvette put the extinguisher down, angrily glowering at the remains of her couch. "Great. That's just fantastic. It's not like I like sat on that or anything."

"I'll buy you a new one," Elise responded, waving away the smoke coming off the couch.

"That couch had nostalgic value. I had a lot of good times on that thing. And my boots! My purse!" Yvette picked up the soaked items. They hadn't been burned by Gilbert's attack, but the extinguisher had left them sodden. "Those boots cost 30,000 yen!"

"Oh, Yvette, please. Those things can easily be replaced," Elise said as she returned Gilbert to the Luxury Ball before he could do more damage. She set the ball on the counter.

"Uh, no," Yvette said as she darted over and grabbed the ball. She thrust it back at her grandmother. "You can't honestly expect me to keep him now. He's going to burn the whole building down!"

Elise pushed the ball back towards Yvette. "Gilbert is only a baby. He'll grow out of this rowdiness if you train him properly."

"This 'baby' has a punch that could burn right through my stomach!"

"Yvette, I know you've trained Pokémon more dangerous than Gilbert. Your father must've taught you how handle Pokémon like this."

"My father got his head fucking crushed by a Pokémon like this. But hey, I guess if Gilbert kills me, that'll be another embarrassment you won't have to deal with anymore!"

The slap came before Yvette could regret the awful words and was more shocking than painful. Yvette and her grandmother had a mutual dislike for one another, and the frequently argued, but her grandmother had never struck her before. Perhaps the mention of her dead son had pushed her over the edge. Right now, she was staring at the hand she had smacked Yvette with, her usual calm iciness gone from her facial features. An unbearable silence stretched between them, neither of them sure of how to address the line that had just been crossed.

Finally, Yvette decided to do what she always did when things became too emotionally intense. "I want 150,000 yen in my bank account by tonight if you want me to keep him." She looked her grandmother in the eye, ignoring the stinging pain in her cheek.

Elise's composure returned at the mention of money. She met Yvette's gaze stoically. "Of course. You'll also receive a fifteen percent cut for every client you refer to the Aubespine Breeding Facility." Yvette nodded, relieved that they could both just pretend that the previous minutes had never happened. She took the Luxury Ball from her grandmother as the older woman pushed past her towards the exit.

She paused; hand on the doorknob, before turning back to her granddaughter. For one brief, horrifying moment, Yvette thought she was going to bring up the fight. But she just said "I was in a meeting with Augustine Sycamore yesterday."

"Uh, okay." Yvette knew that Sycamore Labs obtained their starters from the ABF, but she herself had never had any business with them, nor had she ever met the head of the lab. "And?"

"And your name came up. He was interested in you for some reason, though he made a pitiful attempt at pretending he wasn't." Elise shrugged. "I gave him your number. Perhaps he'll offer you a nice position at his lab, and you can actually have a sustainable career that doesn't involve you mingling with lowlifes." Finishing with that final jab, her grandmother opened the door and left her apartment.

"Yeah, and maybe we'll turn each other straight and have a ton of half-breed babies to carry on the family name. Is that what you want?" Yvette shouted through the door, though she doubted her grandmother could hear her through the walls. She glanced down at the Luxury Ball in her hand, then at her broken couch. She put the ball back on the kitchen counter and headed to the bed on the far end of the apartment, suddenly exhausted. "Better be a nice couch," she muttered as she flopped face down onto the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing.

Yvette checked her phone for the time and sighed, slumping against the wall. She'd been at the gym for an hour and a half, watching Gilbert furiously pound into the fire-resistant punching bag dangling in front of him. The bag was positioned just out of his reach, and he had to do a little jump in order to actually hit it. The extra activity should have tired him out faster, but the Scraggy was still hitting the bag with glowing red fists and showed little sign of stopping anytime soon.

Yvette supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised. In the four days since her grandmother had dumped him on her lap, she had found that Gilbert was both highly aggressive and incredibly touchy. Yvette was not a certified behaviorist, but she'd trained enough dangerous Pokémon to guess that these emotional problems stemmed from his comical, unusual appearance.

The Scraggy's issues had made it near impossible to walk around Lumiose safely. Gilbert was sensitive to way people and Pokémon reacted around him, and was more than willing to fight anything that so much as glanced at him in a way he perceived to be offensive. She had attempted to take him to the skate park on Versant Road yesterday, hoping he'd be able to take out his anger on some wild Pokémon. That had been a disaster. The wild Pokémon had given him a wide berth, unsure of what to make of his abnormal features. Then some Youngster had spotted Gilbert in the grass and promptly burst out laughing, which in turn had caused him to chase the boy for a good 5 minutes before Yvette had managed to get him back in his Luxury Ball. And then he wouldn't stay in the ball-Yvette had been forced to physically restrain him so he wouldn't go chasing after the boy again. In the end, Jezebel had needed to carry him in her talons in order to get them all home.

This gym was the only location Yvette found safe enough to let Gilbert run around. It wasn't the League Gym, just a regular gym meant for training and exercise. What Gilbert needed most right now was to get used to being around Pokémon and people, and this gym was the best place to do just that. Most of the patrons were too focused on their own training to notice Yvette and Gilbert. They occasionally got the odd double-take from someone who had looked their way by chance, but were otherwise left alone. It was also staffed by fighting experts and their Pokémon, all of whom were more than capable of handling Gilbert should he choose to pick a fight. And in case that wasn't enough, Yvette also had Jezebel watching him from above.

The Mandibuzz hadn't been too happy with her new role as babysitter for the volatile Scraggy. At the moment, she was perched on the rafters, seemingly ignoring the Talonflame and Hawlucha vying for her attention nearby. Yvette could tell by the way she puffed her chest out that she was only pretending to ignore the other birds, and was covertly watching them compete against each other. Gilbert was behaving reasonably well today (for a never-ending fountain of destructive energy), so Yvette allowed her to have her fun.

She was considering whether or not she would get on the treadmill after Gilbert tired himself out when her phone rang. Her caller id only recognized the number as 'Private Caller', but the area code indicated that it was someone from within the city. Not too out of the ordinary-some people who required her services preferred not to leave a trail, even for mundane tasks. Keeping her eye on Gilbert, Yvette answered. "Hello, this is Yvette Fountain."

"Good Afternoon, Mademoiselle Fountain." The voice on the other end was deep and masculine, the words pronounced with a clear, upper class accent. "I am Lysandre Clotaire de Lumiose. Do you have a moment to talk?"

Yvette's eyebrows went up at the introduction. Why the hell was the Duc de Lumiose, CEO of Fleur de Lis Inc. and head of the oldest noble family in Lumiose calling her? She took a quick glance at her Pokémon. Gilbert was still punching away, and Jezebel was preening as her would-be suitors fought in front of her. "Yes, now is a good time," Yvette said, falling into the high-class manner of speaking easily. "What can I help you with?"

He got right to the point. "There is a matter I would like to discuss with you at the earliest convenience. A potential job offer, if you are interested."

Yvette was very interested. The Duc wasn't calling from his company phone, which meant that this didn't have anything to do with his business, nor did he want anyone to know he was calling her. He was also filthy rich and likely willing to pay her a lot of money without thinking twice. "Please go on."

There was a loud thud in front of her and Yvette looked over to see that the Hawlucha had lost its battle for Jezebel's heart. It didn't seem too heartbroken, as it had landed in front of Gilbert and was now staring at him with a quizzical expression on its face.

The Duc must've heart the Hawlucha's fall over the phone, as he paused for a moment, but he didn't comment on it. "I would prefer not to speak of it over the phone. I was hoping to set up a face to face meeting, where we can talk in private."

"That's fine, but I do not meet with new clients in their homes."

"Ah no, of course not." The Duc sounded a bit taken aback that she would think he would suggest such a thing. "I believe my office at the Fleur de Lis headquarters would be a suitable location." The way he said it made it seem like he wouldn't accept any other suggestion from her. Typical nobility. "How does tomorrow at six o'clock sound?"

A piercing screech echoed through the gym before Yvette could answer. The Hawlucha was on fire, frantically patting down the flames on its wings while staff members rushed to its aide. Above, Jezebel had Gilbert in her talons and was doing her best to hold onto his squirming, chubby body. His fists still smoked from his recent attack.

"That sounds good sorry I got to go see you then!" Yvette said in one breath as she hung up and pulled Gilbert's ball out of her pocket. "Bring him over here, Jez," she huffed, once again annoyed with the newest addition to her Pokémon team. Jezebel was about to fly down when she suddenly squawked and let go, a small burn mark on her talon. Yvette quickly returned Gilbert to the Luxury Ball before he could plummet to the ground.

* * *

The Duc did not find the abrupt end to their conversation off-putting enough to cancel their meeting, and so the next day Yvette waited outside his office in the most comfortable chair she had ever sat in. The chair was bright white, like every other piece of furniture in Fleur de Lis's sleekly designed company headquarters, and was shaped to fit the curve of her back perfectly. Across from her, Clotaire's secretaries worked at a large circular desk, taking phone calls with Bluetooth headsets in their ears.

 _I'm wearing the wrong shade of red,_ Yvette thought as she observed the two secretaries. They stood out against the stark white decor of the office with their scarlet hair and matching tights that somehow didn't clash with their white blazers and pencil skirts. Yvette looked down at the carmine button-up blouse she was wearing with her charcoal business suit and wondered if the Duc would hold that against her.

 _Probably not._ No doubt he was expecting her to show up in fatigues or, Arceus forbid, a trench coat and fedora. Some of the nerdier freelancers did dress like a character from a b-movie action flick, but Yvette usually wore whatever fit the circumstances. Her last job had been discussed in a more casual setting, but this one called for more business appropriate attire.

It was 5:55, and the office was still full of employees going this way and that, discussing their latest projects with their co-workers. None of them appeared to be in any rush to leave, too wrapped up in what they were working on to care about the time. It was an unusual trait in a Kalosian company- most corporations had more lax hours, with the majority of office employees working a thirty-five hour week at most. Every employee here however, was bursting with enthusiasm for what they were doing, and Yvette didn't see a single person who looked worn down from the late hours. Yvette had never met the Duc de Lumiose, but she had seen a few of his interviews on TV, and he'd exuded the same passion that his employees were showing now. _Must be the secret to his success._ The Clotaires, much like the L'Aubespines, had been a dying family, close to ruin and extinction, but instead of marrying a rich Unovan shipping magnate to save himself from gentile poverty; Clotaire had built his company from the ground up and was now the leading information technology company in the world. Hell, even Yvette's phone was a Fleur de Lis product.

Still, all the money in the world wouldn't save his family from extinction, as her grandmother would often say. The Duc was currently engaged to Augustine Sycamore, the League appointed Regional Professor, a decision that had garnered widespread derision from the majority his peers (though naturally all snide remarks were made behind his back). Yvette knew that it wasn't easy being both gay and the sole heir to a noble family's title, and thus had a lot of respect for how openly the Duc was giving the metaphorical finger to the rigid standards of the Kalosian nobility.

 _Maybe he wants to adopt me as his heir._ Yvette discarded the absurd thought as soon as it had popped into her head. If he and Professor Sycamore were going to adopt, they probably wouldn't pick the adult granddaughter of a fellow peer, especially one with a reputation like hers.

"Lysandre will see you now." Yvette's head snapped up at the crisp, professional voice. She stood up and smoothed down her skirt, wondering why the woman referred to her boss by his first name. "Just go on in," she said before turning back to her work. Yvette opened the glass door to the Duc's office and walked in.

Clotaire's office was just as sleek and modern as the rest of the building. On the far end, behind his desk, a huge glass window took up the entire wall. Fleur de Lis headquarters was located on Centrico Plaza, and the window gave an excellent view of the entire Plaza and Prism Tower. A couple paintings lined the walls of the room, all of it work by contemporary Kalosian Artists. Clotaire stood up as she strode toward the desk, heels muffled by the plush, scarlet carpet (which bizarrely enough, matched his secretary's hair. What was with this guy and red?).

"Mademoiselle Fountain, it's very nice to meet you," he said as he gave her light, brisk handshake. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please, have a seat." Yvette did just that, careful to resist the temptation to lean back into the chair, noting that it was the same kind as the one outside the office. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"No thank you," Yvette said, mirroring his tone of formal politeness. "I'd like to get right down to business, if that's alright with you, Monsieur Clotaire."

He smiled at that. "That's just fine with me. And please, call me Lysandre."

Yvette schooled her features into a stoic mask, hiding her surprise at the request. They technically may have been social equals by Kalosian standards, but being on a first name basis with someone so soon after meeting them was unheard of. _Although that explains why the secretary called him by his first name…_ She raised her eyes to meet his.

He certainly didn't look like a man who would allow his employees to use his first name so freely, at least not at first glance. He was tall and broad shouldered, with a strong, aristocratic face that would not have looked out of place on an ancient marble statue. His mane of bright, orange-red hair appeared both perfectly styled and completely wild, the color contrasting interestingly against his ivory skin and icy blue eyes. His suit was cut to fit his form flawlessly, and was naturally the height of fashion and probably worth more than the cost of all of Yvette's clothes put together. The average citizen would likely be intimated by such an immaculate visage, and the Duc- Lysandre- definitely had an awe-inducing air about him. But what stood out to Yvette the most was the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The small, brown dots looked out of place, far too innocent to appear on man of Lysandre's age and standing. She'd either never noticed them when he was on TV, or they'd been hidden somehow with some sort of graphics tool. Regardless, the freckles were sort of endearing, and they made the man in front her seem a bit more human.

"I'd like to start this conversation off by saying that hiring you was my fiancé's idea, not mine," he began, not impolitely, merely honest. "I've never hired a freelancer before, so I'd like to apologize in advance if I make any errors."

Yvette reached into her purse for her phone. The statement didn't shock her at all. She'd had a feeling that this had been the case, given that her Grandmother had reported the Professor's interest in her. "It's really no different than hiring any other kind of contracted employee," she said as the she turned on the phone's recording app and placed it on the desk.

Lysandre was looking at the phone with a frown, so Yvette quickly said "I record all initial conversations with a client for my own personal reference. All recordings get deleted once I complete a job." He still didn't appear appeased with the explanation. "Don't worry; breaking confidentiality would be bad for my business. Any secrets you have will be safe with me."

Lysandre didn't look like he quite believed her, but he moved on anyway. "Right. Well, this job isn't anything particularly complicated or exciting. The Professor is going to Kiloude City tomorrow to retrieve an item of great importance, and I'd like you to accompany him to ensure that he gets there and back safely."

Yvette couldn't help but be a bit disappointed. It wasn't that the job was boring- Kiloude City was a hotbed of criminal activity, and hiring a bodyguard was a wise decision. But she had been expecting something a bit more scandalous, given Lysandre's discomfort with her recording their conversation. Temporary bodyguard work was something she did dabble in on occasion, but Lysandre surely had someone already on his payroll that could have done this instead.

He must have sensed her confusion, for he then said "As I previously stated, hiring you wasn't my idea. It was Augustine who insisted upon contacting you for this errand." He shook his head and gave a weary sigh, as though he'd become resigned to his fiancé's strange whims.

Well, it didn't really matter whose idea it was. "What's he getting?" Yvette asked.

Lysandre's eyebrows shot up for a brief second. He clearly hadn't expected her to care about anything other than the most basic description of the job. "Why do you need to know?"

"Just curious. Kiloude City isn't exactly known for its scientific achievements."

The stern line of Lysandre's mouth did not so much as twitch, but his jaw clenched. "The Professor is retrieving an item from a private collector that is of vital importance to the research he's currently conducting." He steepled his fingers and gave her a hard, steely look that told her that he would say no more on the subject. "The Professor can supply you with more details tomorrow, if you choose to take this job."

Alarm bells rang in Yvette's head at the mention of a private collector, but she had a feeling that Lysandre wouldn't appreciate another probing question. It would probably be easier to ask the Professor about it, anyway. "Alright, I'll take the job," she said, then, against her better judgement, asked "Do you know where the Professor is meeting with this 'private collector'?"

"No. Let's discuss your pay," Lysandre responded. "I'm aware that freelancers normally get paid by the hour, but I think a lump sum of five-hundred thousand yen should be more than fair enough."

It was more than enough, especially for a job that was only going to take a day at most. The bells in Yvette's head rang louder. Between Lysandre's secretiveness, the sketchy destination, and the whole 'private collector' thing, Yvette could tell she wasn't getting the whole story. But still…five-hundred thousand yen could keep her afloat for a good while. And if she did well on this job, perhaps the Duc would keep her on file for other, equally well-paying jobs. Greed eventually drowned out the alarm bells. "Accepted," she said. "Is there anything I need to know about before hand? Something I should prepare for?"

Lysandre opened his mouth as if to say no, then thought better of it. "To be honest," he said in a tone that could almost be described as sheepish. "I don't know exactly what it is that Augustine is planning on doing, other than meeting the collector. My number one priority is his safety, first and foremost. I'm sure he'll let you know anything that might be of importance." He stood up, the action declaring the meeting over. "Your pay will be deposited into your bank account upon the Professor's return," he said as Yvette got up and put her phone back into her purse.

Lysandre came around the desk and offered his hand to shake once more. She took it, but when she tried to pull back he tightened his grip, his strong hand grasping hers painfully. She looked up to see that his eyes had gone steely once again. "I don't think I need to tell you that if you fail and the Professor gets hurt, it won't end well for you," he said. His voice sounded calm, but Yvette could hear the undertone of threat in his words. "Not even your grandmother will be able to protect you."

She dug her nails into the pale flesh of his hand and he let go. "I have never hid behind my grandmother, or my name," she spat venomously, eyes narrowed. "And I'll get the Professor home safe." The Duc's threat hadn't made her nearly as angry as the accusation that she expected protection from her grandmother, but it was bad form to claw a client's eyes out so soon after accepting a half a million dollar job from them.

Lysandre was looking at the bright red marks Yvette had left in his skin with something akin to respect in his eyes. He dropped his hand to the side and said "I'm glad to hear that. He'll meet you at the train station tomorrow at 9:00 am. If you have any concerns, please call me."

"Right. I'll see you later, Lysandre," Yvette said, as she walked towards the door, still offended by his previous remarks.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Fountain," he said, stopping her in her tracks. She turned to face him once again. "There is one more thing I should mention. The Professor will be carrying a large sum of money in a suitcase with him. See that he doesn't lose it."


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing

Why were scientists always so chatty?  
Scientists were often stereotyped as being introverted, socially awkward, and quiet, but every scientist Yvette had ever met always tried to talk her ear off. Professor Sycamore was no exception. From the moment they had met at the train station to two hours into the ride, he had talked nonstop, enthusiastically going from one topic to the next, too fast for Yvette to keep up. He didn't speak in the same self-absorbed, love-to-hear-the-sound-of-my-own-voice way her grandmother spoke, but as a person who genuinely loved what they did and wanted to share it with everyone. It was kind of sweet, in a weird way.

Right now, he was explaining the concept of Mega Evolution to her. Most of the finer details were going over her head, but she got the gist of it. The concept of an extra, temporary evolution was pretty interesting, and Yvette wouldn't mind seeing something like that in action one day. But a lot of what the Professor was saying seemed to be conjecture, and even the world's leading Mega Evolution expert didn't have all the answers.

"So how do you know that it's the bond between a trainer and their Pokémon that acts as the catalyst for Mega Evolution?" Yvette asked when the Professor paused for breath. "I mean, it's a nice thought, but is there any scientific basis for it?"

The Professor smiled. He didn't become defensive or angry when his theories were questioned by non-scientists like certain other people Yvette knew. "I don't know for sure, but in the few times I've seen Mega Evolution occur, it was always with Pokémon who had very strong bonds with their trainers. But there are other variables that do need to be tested," he admitted. "And I can't wait to test them!" He sounded like he would test those variables right here on this train if he could.

There were four of them in the compartment, two humans and two Pokémon. Professor Sycamore and Gilbert had the window seats while she and Sander, her Krookodile, had the aisle seats. She had let Sander out because she hadn't been able to keep Gilbert in his ball, and since Jezebel still hadn't forgiven him for burning her, it was up to Sander to keep him out of trouble. Gilbert, however, was looking out the window, too transfixed by the moving scenery outside to be his normal, violent self, so Sander was free to snooze in his seat, his bulky body taking up most of his side of the compartment. The Professor didn't mind.

His reaction to Gilbert had caught the chubby Scraggy off guard. The Professor had expressed amazement and fascination at Gilbert's unique appearance when the Pokémon had suddenly burst out of his ball. "Incredible! Dr. L'Aubespine had told me that she had finally succeeded in creating a Scraggy variant, but I had no idea he would look like this!" the Professor had exclaimed while getting down to Gilbert's level to examine him more closely. There wasn't a single hint of mockery or disgust in his tone, and Gilbert, unsure of what to make of the Professor's friendliness, suddenly became shy. He had scrambled onto the seat, eyeing the Professor warily until he had noticed the lush Kalosian landscape outside. He'd been looking out the window ever since, occasionally glancing at the Professor as he spoke.

"Hey, Professor, you think Gilbert here would be able to Mega Evolve?" Yvette asked jokingly. Gilbert turned away from the window to give Yvette an angry look, but the Professor seemed to be giving her question some actual thought. He scratched his chin contemplatively, dark brows furrowed, before answering. "Well, all Mega Evolutions occur in a Pokémon's final form, so he would have to evolve into a Scrafty first." Gilbert perked up with interest upon hearing about his evolution as the Professor continued. "But we haven't found any Mega Stones compatible with Scraftys. Or Darmanitans, for that matter. But don't worry," he said reassuringly, as though he didn't want to crush Gilbert's dreams of Mega Evolving one day. "There are always new discoveries to be made!" He reached over and put a hand on Gilbert's bulbous head, and Yvette was surprised to see that the Scraggy allowed it. "Why, just last week they found a Mega Stone for Slowbros in a Hoenni jungle."

"Is that why you're going to Kiloude City? To pick up that Mega Stone?"

The Professor pulled his hand back from Gilbert's head. "Eh, kind of. It is a Mega Stone, but not that one," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hmm. This private collector must be really hard-up for cash if they're willing to sell something so valuable," Yvette said nonchalantly as she gazed at the Professor.

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes, and the alarm bells began ringing in her head once again. He chuckled nervously and gave an "Uh, yeah," before changing the subject to a landmark that just passed by.

She didn't probe him further for now, though she had her suspicions. Part of her didn't want to believe that he was up to something. He was, after all, a friendly, passionate scholar that loved what he did-what was the worst he could possibly be up to? But she knew, from years of experience as a trainer and a freelancer that you couldn't judge a book by its cover, no matter how innocuous that cover might be.

For all the man's chattiness, she still didn't really know much about where they were going or who they were meeting with. She'd asked him, off course, but the Professor had deflected the questions by either changing the subject or answering in weird, roundabout ways that didn't actually tell her anything. When she'd asked him about who his contact was, he had given her a long, detailed re-cap of the various internet conversations he'd had with them, but had not given her any real information about the person other than that they needed money. It was possible that the Professor didn't know anything more than that, but something about the intentionally vague way the he spoke made her doubtful.

The Professor himself was a mystery. Yvette had done some research on him after her meeting with Lysandre. Most of the information available was about the research that had gotten him promoted to Regional Professor last year- the discovery of the eighth Eevee evolution and the cracking of the Mega Evolution theorem. There were a couple articles about his work with Professor Rowan, about his time at the Tower of Mastery, and one or two pieces from when he was a student at the University of Lumiose, but before that? Nothing. He had taken the name Sycamore after receiving his professorship three years ago, which wasn't unusual- all professors named themselves after trees upon promotion. He'd been Augustine Souleyet before that, but researching him under that name hadn't yielded any information regarding his life before enrolling in the University of Lumiose.

She had theorized that the name was false, and the Professor's looks only backed that theory up. The name Souleyet was Kalosian, but the Professor's black, curly hair, thick eyebrows, and pale grey eyes were all distinctly Almian features. He didn't speak with an Almian accent, so she was safe in assuming that he was born in Kalos, most likely Anistar City or Couriway Town, the two cities that bordered the mountain range that separated the two countries. There was a small chance that Souleyet could've been his last name, but she hadn't found any familial connections between the few existing Souleyets and the Professor.

None of this in and of itself made the Professor a bad person. The Kalosian field of science, much like politics and competitive battling, still valued a person's birth over talent and intelligence, and historically, Kalos had never been too kind towards Almia or its people. Yvette wouldn't judge the Professor if he needed to go by a name that wasn't his own in order to have a fighting chance at success. Unfortunately, if the comments on any of the articles about him were any indication, there were plenty of people in the world that would. Conspiracy theories abounded regarding an Almian plot involving both the Professor and Champion Diantha (another Almian in a position of power) overthrowing the Kalosian hierarchy, or ruining the economy, or some such nonsense. There were also ruder accusations of the Professor whoring himself out for promotions, with the commentators citing the Professor's age and attractiveness rather than his ethnicity to make their point, although there was still a racist undertone to the accusations.

Things had only gotten worse since the announcement of his engagement to Lysandre Clotaire. Now he wasn't just a whore or an Almian agent plotting to take over the world, he was a gold-digger as well. Yvette felt sorry for him. Once he married Lysandre, he'd have no choice but to deal with those people who smiled to his face but sneered at his back on a regular basis.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. The Professor was currently regaling Gilbert with a history lesson about the area they were passing through, though it was improbable that the Scraggy understood anything he was saying. If the Professor was up to something illegal, it wouldn't really bother Yvette. She wasn't really opposed to potentially breaking the law, especially if doing so netted her half a million yen, but she needed to know beforehand, so she could prepare for the worst.

"Hey," she interrupted, stopping the Professor in the middle of his speech. "I need to ask you something about this private collector."

The Professor waited for her to ask her question, facial expression schooled into a vapid, friendly smile. "Is it Olivier Imbert?" she asked, noting that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Answer yes or no."

"No," the Professor said simply before getting up and grabbing the expensive leather suitcase from the bag storage overhead. He squeezed past Sander towards the compartment's exit.

"Where are you going? There's still half an hour left before we arrive."

"Just to the bathroom," the Professor replied without turning his head. "I'll be right back."

"Why are you taking the suitcase? Profes- hey!" Yvette grabbed Gilbert's arm before he could follow the Professor out. "Get back here!" she said as she pulled Gilbert back, but the Scraggy was strong. She wrestled with him for a few seconds before Sander woke up and snatched Gilbert, holding the fat creature against his scaly chest. Gilbert twisted this way and that, trying to free himself, but he didn't stand a chance against the Krookodile's strong grip.

This continued for several minutes until the Professor came back, dressed in a completely different outfit.

* * *

Kiloude City hadn't been a city until relatively recently. It used to be Kiloude Town, a small, southern town similar to Vainville, its neighbor to the north. Then Olivier Imbert showed up with his smuggling operation about fifty years ago. He started out with knock-off luxury items- fake designer purses, clothing, jewelry, and things of that nature. His business had really taken off when he began trafficking guns into the country. Kalos had banned possession of any sort of firearm, like every other country that wasn't Unova, but Imbert's schemes always eluded authorities, which allowed him to build his empire. If you wound up with a gun in Kalos, chances were it was smuggled into the country through one of Imbert's channels.

Needless to say, Imbert, through his many 'businesses' was almost as rich as Lysandre, even if he obtained his money through illegal methods. Imbert spent a lot of money to further develop the place where he had found his success, building the world famous Battle Maison and funding the safari to bring in tourists. Kiloude City was now a charming, mid-size city that rivaled Santalune and Lavarre. Even the sketchier parts of the city were clean and pleasant looking. The streets were cobbled with reddish-brown brick, and lined with fancy, iron streetlights every couple of meters. There was not a single piece of trash in sight, and the buildings were all free of graffiti. The liquor stores and cigarette outlets could just as easily been boutiques and cafes.

The only thing that signified that this was, in fact, a dangerous part of the city was the people that walked along the well-paved streets. There weren't a lot of them out at a quarter past noon, but the few that passed Yvette and the Professor by all looked like they wouldn't be out of place lurking in Lumiose's alleyways. Even more worrying was that most of them had shaved heads and visible Pangoro tattoos, the attributes commonly affiliated with members of Imbert's gang.

The Professor's change in wardrobe had been an excellent idea. He would have stuck out like a gold-plated thumb dressed in his lab coat and slacks, and the expensive black leather suitcase only would've made him even more of a target. He was now walking through the city in worn jeans and a dark grey hoodie with a logo so faded that Yvette could not tell what it was supposed to be. The hood was pulled up, hiding the Professor's face, and he walked with his head bent downward and hands in his pockets. Anyone would assume that the ratty backpack he had transferred the money into was full of drug paraphernalia instead of two million yen.

His disguise would have been perfect had it not been for one fatal flaw. "You alright there, Professor?" Yvette asked, amused, as they made their way to wherever it was they were going. She could see beads of sweat on the Professor's face under the shadow of his hood. It was mid-May and Kalos had been suffering a horrific heat-wave for weeks. She could feel the sun beating down on her own dark skin in her black tank-top and white capris, and couldn't imagine how the Professor must've felt in his fucking hoodie.

The Professor laughed in self-abasement and pulled back his hood, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. "I suppose the weather slipped my mind while I was packing," he said, shrugging sheepishly. "I used to wear this all the time back in Couriway Town." The casual mention of Couriway Town caught Yvette's interest, as she had not seen any report of him ever living there during her research, but he didn't elaborate further. "We're almost there, anyway. I'll be fine."

Yvette looked around, idly twisting the strap of her sling backpack, wondering if she could spot their final destination. There were a few apartment buildings ( _maybe)_ , yet another liquor store ( _probably not_ ), an adult bookstore ( _Arceus, I fucking hope not_ ) and a pawn shop with a gaudy neon sign ( _uh… no. No way_ ) up ahead. They passed by the apartment buildings, the liquor store, and the bookstore, but it wasn't until they were actually in front of the pawn shop that Yvette could believe that this was where the Professor had intended to go all along.

Yvette wanted to laugh. Augustine Sycamore's private collector, the person who possessed a stone filled with immense power, was probably some middle-aged shop owner who didn't even know what the stone actually was. _No wonder he didn't tell me anything,_ she thought as they entered the shop. _I would never have believed it._

The shop had a spacious interior, the sale items organized by type. Musical instruments were neatly displayed next to a glass covered jewelry counter, while electronic devices were stacked on a table closer to the door. On the left side, miscellaneous items lined the shelves, on the right, Pokémon related accessories. There were a variety of battle items, Pokédolls and evolutionary stones, nothing she hadn't seen before.

The Professor didn't give these items a second look as he strode toward the bald man at the register. The man looked up at his approach with disinterest, writing the Professor off as some junkie trying to fence stolen items.

The Professor paused in front of the register, unsure of how to start the conversation. Then he said "Hello, I think you have something on hold for me. The name's Güler."

The man didn't even blink. "We don't do holds. Everything we have is out on the shelf."

The Professor wasn't the least bit discouraged. Yvette felt her suspicions rising once again. "Ah, but you must have misunderstood. Couraud specifically said that my…item would be here, in this store." The name Couraud was instantly familiar to Yvette. He'd been one of her father's occasional associates, and she had met him a few times. She took a closer look at the bald man and realized that his head wasn't bald, but shaved. She switched her gaze from his head to his arm and saw exactly what she expected to see: a tattoo of a Pangoro's claw, clenched as though ready to punch something. _I should've known. That lying little bastard._

The bald (shaved) man reached into a drawer and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Now I remember. There's been a change of plan," he said as he handed the Professor the paper. "Couraud will meet you at this address with your package. He says you better have the cash on you."

"Oh, well, I suppose these things happen," the Professor said quickly as he took the paper. _A little too quickly._ "Thank you for your time. We're done here, Miss Fountain." He unfolded the paper and glanced at it before stuffing it in his pocket and walking to the exit. Yvette followed him, not saying anything until they had left the store.

Before the Professor could even speak, Yvette grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the nearest alley. She slammed him against the wall and the Professor gasped, more in surprise than pain. "You need to tell me the truth. Right now," she said, voice dripping with anger.

W-What? Miss Fountain," he stammered, putting his hands up defensively. "I don't- are you upset about having to go to a second location? It's annoying, I admit, but-"

Yvette cut him off. "Don't play stupid. You said this had nothing to do with Olivier Imbert. But that man you just spoke with is part of his gang," She pointed at him accusingly. "And Couraud is one of his lieutenants. What's going on Professor? What did you get yourself involved in?"

The Professor opened his mouth, and then closed it, as though he had changed his mind about telling her another lie. "Okay, alright," he said, gently pushing her away. She let him, waiting to hear his explanation. "I wasn't lying when I said Imbert wasn't my collector. It was Couraud who contacted me last week about selling the Mega Stone. He told me to go to that pawn shop in order to get the address to the real meeting place." He pulled the paper out of his pocket and offered it to her.

She took it with a raised eyebrow. "Couraud just came out of the blue with this offer? I find that hard to believe, Professor."

The Professor sighed. "Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I, ah, was actually here about a month ago. I was trying to get this same Mega Stone, but it was Imbert making the offer. But he wanted me to do something I absolutely couldn't do. So we didn't exactly part on the best of terms. But then Couraud contacted me and said Imbert had changed his mind and was willing to sell the Mega Stone for two million yen and…" he trailed off.

"And you chose to believe him," Yvette finished, thoroughly annoyed with the entire situation. For all the Professor knew, Couraud might not even have the stupid stone, and this entire thing could be a set-up for a robbery. And even if Couraud did have the stone, there was no way Imbert would have approved of him selling it to a man that had so recently snubbed him. _Though I guess that's why he was so insistent on his fiancé hiring me._ "Why didn't you just tell me all of this before now?"

The Professor swallowed. "Lysandre never approved of me going to Kiloude City the first time around. He didn't even know I had met with Imbert at all. And he definitely wasn't happy about me going a second time. If he knew about all of this, he…" The Professor sighed again, looking defeated. "I figured that the less you knew, the less you'd be able to tell him. He strongly disapproves of Imbert, and anyone associated with him."

Yvette stepped back, taking in what she had just heard. The fact that Lysandre didn't like Imbert wasn't shocking; given way he had acted towards her at the end of their meeting. But something about the way the Professor spoke about keeping it a secret from his fiancé made Yvette's stomach twist uncomfortably. The Professor didn't sound like he was afraid of Lysandre or anything, but his wording made it seem like Lysandre had an awful lot of control over the Professor's life. _Then again, that two million yen was probably Lysandre's money. The Professor probably just doesn't want him to know that he's giving it to one of Imbert's associates._

The Professor's relationship with Lysandre was irrelevant, so Yvette focused on the matter at hand. She smoothed out the crumpled piece of paper and looked at the address. "You should've told me this on the train, so I could've prepared." The Professor nodded, chastised. "But I know now, so let's get this done before something goes horribly wrong."

* * *

Couraud's meeting place was, naturally, in a secluded building on the northern outskirts of the city. The area had none of the charm of the rest of the city, as it was still under development, though there was no construction going on at the moment. That struck Yvette as odd, given that it was the middle of the afternoon on sunny day. _Not a good sign. Not at all._ Yvette assessed the brown brick building that Couraud was supposedly waiting for them in. He was in apartment 3A, according to the address on the paper, but all the blinds in the windows were closed, and there were no cars parked outside the building.

The Professor watched her, waiting for her to give him the go ahead to enter the building. He had been quiet during the walk here, though Yvette could not tell if that was because he felt bad for lying to her, or if he was becoming anxious. She took Sander's ball off of her belt and released the Krookodile. "I'm going in to see who's waiting for us," she told them as she took a black bottle of spray mace out of her backpack. "I'll call you if Couraud's offer is legit. If you don't hear anything from me within five minutes, get out of here as fast as you can. Sander, protect the Professor." The Krookodile nodded, but the Professor was taking something out of the front pocket of his backpack. It was a Pokéball, and the Pokémon inside of it was a winged, orange dragon with sharp claws and flaming tail.

"You should take Sander with you," he said as the Charizard nuzzled him playfully. "Guivre should be able to handle anything that comes up."

The Luxury Ball on Yvette's belt suddenly opened itself, and Gilbert materialized. He waddled over to the Professor without sparing Yvette a second glance, fists raised. "Ah, now I know I'll be safe with you protecting me," he said, kneeling down to pat Gilbert on the head. Guivre took one look at the Scraggy and scoffed, smoke shooting out of his nostrils. For once, however, Gilbert didn't notice the insult, too excited by the drama around him. _At least somebody is having fun._ She let the three be, hoping that if anything did happen, they'd be able to escape on Guivre if the need arose. She walked up the steps to the building's entrance, Sander following close behind.


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing

Something was wrong.

Yvette couldn't explain how she knew, other than from some sort of freelancer's intuition, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to walk right into a trap. She crept up the stairs as quietly as she could, alone, having returned Sander to his Pokéball in the interest of stealth. She kept one hand on his Pokéball and the other on her mace, ready to use both if the need arose.

She had just climbed up two flights of stairs without incident, but a nervous tension was pooling in the pit of her stomach nonetheless. Maybe it had something to do with how quiet the building was. The building, with its drab carpeting and beige walls, was eerily similar to Yvette's home back in Lumiose. But she hadn't seen a single person, nor could she hear any tenants moving around or talking. It could be that Couraud was merely being careful by picking a deserted location to do this in, but that explanation didn't sit right with Yvette.

 _I could just be paranoid,_ Yvette thought as she continued up the third flight, keeping a wary eye out for traps. Silence always seemed to mess with her head. On her last job in Santalune Forest, there had been an unnatural quiet like this one, and that had ended up being one of the most gruesome cases she'd ever worked. There was a chance that her nervousness could simply be leftover trauma, but at the same time, she was dealing with one of Imbert's associates, an associate that may be attempting to double cross his boss at best, and planning a murder-robbery at worst. Yvette decided that the wise thing to do would be to go with her instincts instead of writing them off and potentially getting herself and the Professor killed.

She stopped when she reached the third floor landing, observing the hallway before her. There were only four apartments on this floor, with 2 doors on each side. The doors were all shut, with 3A being the one closest on her left. It wasn't a long hallway, and on the far end was a window, with no curtains or blinds. _Possible escape route._ Yvette filed the information away for later as she snuck over to the door across from 3A. She turned 3B's knob-locked, and it didn't sound like there was any movement inside. She repeated the process with the other two doors, and found them to be the same as 3B. Satisfied that she wasn't going to be ambushed from those angles, Yvette walked back over to 3A, and released Sander. "Stay near me," she whispered. "There might still be a trap." The big lizard nodded, staying close and quiet.

She reached over to knock on the door, but paused before her fist could make contact with the painted black wood. She put her ear to the door and listened hearing…nothing. Like the rooms before it, she couldn't hear anybody moving around on the other side. Unsure of what to make of that, she tightened her grip on the mace and turned the knob with her free hand. It turned with a click, but Yvette didn't open the door, instead waiting for some sign of somebody reacting to her approach. None came, and Yvette frowned. She hadn't known Couraud well, or at all, really, but she knew that you didn't become a high-ranking lieutenant in the most notorious gang in Kalos by allowing just anyone to sneak up on you like this.

Before she could even consider calling the Professor and telling him to flee, the door flew open violently, startling Yvette badly. She jumped, biting back a yelp, and Sander moved towards the door, ready to charge in. Yvette put her hand up and stopped him before he could move into view of whatever was in the room, and he remained where he was reluctantly. She peered into the room, heart still beating fast from the previous scare.

The apartment was dark, with only the sunlight coming in from the windows illuminating the room. Yvette glanced around the unfurnished space, but didn't see who or what had forced the door open. There was a small kitchenette to the immediate right of the entrance, and to the left was an open space that could've served as a living room. There was a closed door straight ahead ( _a bathroom? Bedroom?_ ) and a window on the far end of the room across from her. No sign of Couraud. No sign of anyone, person or Pokémon.

Well, Yvette wasn't going to waste any more time on what was obviously a set-up. She took her phone out of her pocket and dialed the Professor's number, intending on telling him flee with Guivre and Gilbert. The phone rang only once before it was picked up. "Took you long enough," said a voice that was rough, accented, and definitely not the Professor. "We'll be up in a sec!"

True to his word, the man on the other end appeared a second later in a bright flash of light, a wizened Alakazam at his side, and Yvette was horrified to find that she recognized him instantly. He was a tall, wiry man with long black hair that flowed freely past his shoulders. His smile would've been friendly had it not been for the cruelty in his sharp green eyes. The Alakazam came just to his shoulder, taller than most of its kind that Yvette had encountered, but other than that did not appear to be anything special.

 _It's not his Pokémon I'm worried about,_ she thought as she eyed his shoulder holster. _Why did it have to be fucking Rico?_ Rico was a Unovan freelancer who occasionally moonlighted as a hitman whenever the whim took him. He had also been a close friend of her father's and Yvette had been unfortunate enough to have known him since she was a little girl.

To make matters worse, it seemed he recognized her as well. His nasty, smug sneer melted into an expression of pleasant surprise. "Well, if it ain't Kai's little girl. Fancy seeing you here!" he said, the roughness in his voice gone. He stepped forward to get a better look at her, not threatened in the least by her mace. "That sand-skin Professor must've gotten his sugar daddy to hire you," he drawled, looking her over. "Nice to see you following in your old man's footsteps. Bet he would've been proud."

Rico genuinely sounded happy to see her, but Yvette knew better than to let his tone lull her into complacency. "Hey Rico," she said, doing her best to appear unaffected by his presence. She didn't think she was doing a good job of that- Rico's being here was the worst possible thing that could've happened, and her heart felt like it wanted to jump into her throat and burst out her mouth. "Been a while, huh?"

"Oh, too long!" he laughed. "What's it been, five years?" He shrugged, than sobered, a somber looking coming onto his tan, clean-shaven face. "Sorry to hear about Kai. Wish I could've made to the funereal, but, well, you know. Other commitments."

They may have just run into each other at the grocery store from the casual way he was speaking. "Uh, don't worry about it." Yvette didn't take her eyes off of him, knowing that at any second he might decide to just shoot her and be done with it.

"Did you get the flowers I sent?"

 _Okay, now he's just fucking with me._ "Yeah, they were nice."

Rico nodded, pleased with the compliment. "Still can't believe a fucking Rhyhorn got him. Saw that man take down 3 Bisharps with his Mandibuzz once, but he lets some brat's unruly pet kill him?" Rico shook his head, his long hair swaying with the movement. "I tell you, 'vette, it's a damn shame that he went the way he did."

Yvette couldn't tell if he was actually upset about her father's untimely death, or if he just trying to rile her up for a laugh. If it was the latter, he was out of luck-she was too focused on escaping to feel anger. "Eh, you know how it is," she began, hoping that playing along would keep her alive long enough to figure a way out. "Gruesome death is just one of the many perks of this particular career path."

"Haha, yeah," Rico laughed. His Alakazam gazed at them stoically, appearing neither interested nor bored with their conversation. Its silver spoons shined dully in the minimal light. _It doesn't see Sander,_ Yvette thought. _And it can't sense him either. Thank Arceus for dark types._ A plan of sorts began to form in Yvette's mind.

"Okay, enough with the pleasantries," Rico said, clapping his hands together. "I bet you're wondering where Couraud is right about now." Rico's expression went from friendly to sadistic in a split second. The grin was back on his face, and Yvette nearly winced upon seeing it. His teeth always looked so unnaturally sharp to her when she was younger, and he always grinned like he wanted to take a bite out of her.

Yvette shrugged, hoping that the nonchalant action would hide just how unnerved she felt. "Figure he's dead. I'm more interested in the Professor to be honest." Rico's face fell at her blunt answer, and she couldn't help but feel a little satisfied at the reaction. No doubt he had Couraud's body stashed around here somewhere (behind the closed door, perhaps?) and was waiting for the right moment to make his big reveal.

He recovered quickly from his disappointment. "The Professor and his pet lizard are alive and well," he said, his grin becoming wider, exposing all of those awful teeth. "For now, at least. I think Imbert would like to have a little chat with him before having his tongue ripped out. Among other body parts. But you," Rico lifted his left arm up, gesturing towards the door in the back of the apartment. The Alakazam mimicked his movements exactly, and the door opened, the Alakazam's spoons glowing as it creaked on its hinges. "Since you are Kai's daughter, I feel like I owe it to him to give you a quick, clean death, you know? I think that's what he would've wanted."

Yvette had been right. In the back room, was Couraud's body, positioned upright on the toilet. He'd been killed relatively recently, today perhaps, as she hadn't smelled it from where she stood. The coin sized hole in the middle of his forehead, ringed with red and grey, made his manner of death rather obvious.

There was no blood or brain matter visible in the tiny bathroom, so Yvette guessed that Rico must've killed him somewhere else and then teleported here to set the body up in order to screw with whoever wound up coming in here. It was pretty successful in that regard-Yvette's legs felt like they would crumple beneath her at any minute. Only her need to escape and her pride kept her standing.

"Yeah, okay," she said, unable to keep the shakiness out of her voice. Maybe she could use her very real fear to her advantage. "Rico, look," she said, putting her left hand up in surrender as she put her mace back into her bag. It was useless at this distance, but she put it within easy reach if the opportunity to use it arose. Sander stood next to her, keeping quiet, ready for her instructions. "I- you know I only took this job for the money, right? I don't care about the Professor; we're not friends or anything…" She bit her lip, careful not to overdo it. If he thought she was faking, he might get offended, and that definitely wouldn't end well for her. "Just- just let me go, man," she begged, noting the glee in his eyes. Rico used to laugh about the ones who begged for their lives whenever he told her father about his exploits. Her father would always listen with his usual easy smile. "It's not like I'd report you to the police or anything. Don't you think my Dad would want you to spare me?" She gave him a nervous, beseeching smile.

He made a show of considering her words, scratching his chin and tilting his head to the side. "Hmm," he said, looking down at his Alakazam. The Alakazam kept its gaze on Yvette. "Well, how 'bout this? You beat me in a Pokémon battle and I'll let you go." He smiled sweetly, motioning for his Alakazam to step forward. "Normally I wouldn't make this kind of offer, but you are Kai's only daughter."

 _Perfect._ Yvette glanced around the room, wishing that her uneasiness was only acting. "You...you want to do it here? Right now?"

"Sure, why not? Unless you've changed your mind." He shrugged and reached for his gun.

"No-no!" she shrieked, taking two of her Pokéballs off of her belt and releasing Jezebel. She kept Sanders Pokéball hidden in her hand. "This is fine, let's just, uh…" She scrambled for her next words, as though panicked.

"Excellent!" He clapped his hands together again, practically radiating cheer. "I'll even let you go first," he said generously.

Of course, there was nothing generous about Rico. She knew he had no intention of actually letting her go; his promise to do so was merely another one of his sick games. But Yvette had no intention of battling him anyway.

"Alright," she said weakly, glancing at the window. It was too small for her to fly out on Jezebel's back as it was. Rico followed her gaze and smirked, standing patiently to the side. "Anytime you're ready, kid," he said patronizingly.

"Sander," she said, stepping to the side. "Use Dark Pulse!"

Time seemed to slow down in the next couple of seconds as a wave of pitch black energy crashed through the apartment wall. The Alakazam teleported out of the way, but it had not been the pulse's target. The pulse moved through the wall, into the room, and blasted through the window and wall across from the Krookodile, damaging the floor enough to leave a good sized-hole in the middle of the apartment. Rico, caught off-guard by the sneak attack, barely managed to avoid falling through the hole, but was unable to avoid the glass and debris as he rolled out of the way. The Alakazam, in the confusion, focused on shielding its trainer from the worst of the debris.

Yvette used his distraction to her full advantage, hopping on Jezebel's back and returning Sander. She clutched the bird's feathers hard in an effort to stay on her. "Just go! Get out!" she screamed as Jezebel flew out of the gaping hole left by the dark pulse. She felt bits of glass brush by her skin, and she could hear a bullet whizzing by her head as they fled. "Front of the building, Jez," she said breathlessly. "We need to find the Professor and-"

Another shot rang out, and had Yvette been a mere centimeter to the left, she would've taken the bullet in her shoulder, the force of which likely would've knocked her off Jezebel. As it stood, the bullet only grazed her arm, leaving a burning slash on the skin. Rico came flying out of the destroyed apartment, mounted on a razor beaked Braviary, face twisted with anger, and gun aimed right at her.

 _The Braviary's new,_ Yvette thought numbly to herself as they ducked down just before Rico's Pokémon could hit them. The Braviary looked to be much heavier than Jezebel, but it certainly wasn't any slower, it's red and white wings cutting easily through the air. It dived down back at them, beak snapping at Jezebel, who moved her head just in time to avoid getting her eye pecked out.

Blood flowed down Yvette's arm, but now sure as hell wasn't the time to worry about the minor injury when they could both be killed at any minute. The Braviary attempted to knock them over again with Aerial Ace, but Jezebel maneuvered around it, flying over the Braviary instead of underneath it. A good thing she did- Yvette could see the Braviary's talons glow a sickly purple, and if Jezebel had gone under it, it would've kicked Yvette right in the head.

Yvette kept on the defensive, knowing that if she attacked with Jezebel; it would just increase her chances of either getting shot or plummeting to the ground. Rico bit his lip hard enough to pierce the flesh and swore at her, frustrated with her evasive tactics. He ordered his Braviary to push the offense, seemingly unconcerned about putting himself in danger. Oddly enough, he made no attempt to shoot her again, even though Yvette knew he would love nothing more than to turn her into a bullet laden corpse.

 _He's not out of ammo,_ she thought, knowing that he'd only shot at her twice. His 9mm handgun could have anywhere from ten to fifteen more rounds. _He's had more than one opportunity to shoot Jez out from under me too, so why hasn't he? Unless…_ It dawned on her as they dodged another shadow claw, gliding to the right of it. _He doesn't want to hit Jezebel. Holy shit. The self-proclaimed hardest motherfucker in Unova can't bring himself to shoot a Pokémon, for whatever reason._ It was almost cute, in a demented, warped kind of way.

This information in mind, Yvette pressed herself as flat as she could onto to Jezebel's back. "He won't shoot you, Jez," she said. "Keep your body in front of mine and head toward the ground. We gotta find the Professor." The Mandibuzz nodded and angled herself in a way that exposed her underbelly, but kept Yvette out of view of a clear shot. It was a risky tactic- the angle wasn't very good for flying on and Yvette could easily slide right off if she loosened her grip. Her sling backpack hung on her uncomfortably, and in the back of her mind, Yvette hoped that it was shut securely enough to keep the contents inside.

The risk had been worth taking. "You cowardly little bitch! Who the fuck hides behind their Pokémon? I could kill your ugly buzzard right this second!" Rico roared, and he sounded so pissed that for a moment Yvette thought that she had made a horrible mistake. But no shot came, and she knew she had found his weakness. "Fuck your dad, when I get my hands on you…arrgh!"

He was attempting to circle behind them, in order to get at Yvette. Yvette squeezed her legs around Jezebel as the bird flipped herself around in a barrel roll before he could pull the trigger. Her pack smacked against her body hard, but stayed miraculously closed. He circled around again, and Jezebel repeated the roll, leaving them back where they started. This absurd game continued three more times- Rico and his Braviary circling, Jezebel and Yvette flipping so quickly that she was starting to feel dizzy- until Rico finally, angrily, gave up.

"Fuck this!" he screeched. "Cuauhtli, use Brave Bird!"

"Oh, shit!" Yvette said as the Braviary tucked its wings to its body in preparation for the attack. Apparently Rico had abandoned common sense completely in his anger and was now going to get them all killed. _Should have seen this coming. Fuck, how's Jez gonna dodge this?_

A horn blaring from the street below distracted Rico from his suicide attack. Then, a column of flame burst up towards Rico and the Braviary, almost out of nowhere. The Braviary dodged upwards, squawking in pain as the fire singed its talons, its trainer leaning back to avoid getting burnt. Not a second later a bright blur of green and orange rammed into them, hard, nearly knocking Rico right off the Braviary's back.

 _The Professor's Charizard? But how?_ The horn honked again and Yvette looked down, noticing a dark blue van coming down the street. She couldn't see who was driving from where she was, but on the passenger's side, a fat, yellow Pokémon leaned out the window, waving its stubby arms as hard as it could. A wave of relief washed over her. The Professor was okay, and she wasn't going to question it at the moment.

Rico was struggling to re-situate himself back onto his Braviary as the large bird fought off Guivre, who was smacking at them with his wings and tail. It should've been easier for the Charizard to hit them at that distance, but for some reason, he kept missing, his attacks moving sluggishly. He hovered drowsily in the air, as though his first two attacks had drained him of what little energy he'd already had. Despite that handicap, he seemed to be evenly matched with the Braviary, who had to concentrate on both attacking and keeping its trainer safe from injury.

There was nothing Jezebel could do to help with Yvette on her back, so she ordered the Mandibuzz to fly down to the van, intending on sending her to help Guivre once she was on the ground. But her timing was bad-as she began to fly downwards towards the street, Rico's Braviary landed a critical hit on Guivre with an Aerial Ace. The Charizard roared in pain, his large head thrashing from side to side as blood poured down its face. Rico didn't give his Braviary a moment to recover from the previous ordeal. "Not getting away from me, you little bitch!" he screamed, his voice sounding almost desperate. "Brave Bird! Now!"

 _Fuck._ They were hot on Jezebel's heels, and if they attack hit, both she and Jezebel would knocked into the ground forcefully. If they weren't killed outright, they'd be grievously injured at best. Yvette dug through her pack for her mace frantically, grabbing the bottle and turning towards their pursuers and spraying, not having time to do anything but hope her attack landed.

It did and it didn't. The mace went high, over the Braviary's head, but it hit Rico right in the eyes, and he gave a choked scream, clawing madly at his face with his free hand. He did not drop his gun, but it was useless anyway, as the mace likely blinded him. The Braviary stopped in midair, panicked by its trainer's pain. A fatal mistake, as Guivre mustered up all his remaining strength and slammed into them, knocking the bird out of the air and into the ruined apartment building where the battle had begun, taking Rico with it.

Jezebel did not seem to notice any of this as she continued downward, her attention focused on getting back onto the ground. She landed in the middle of the street, her breathing fast and ragged from exertion and stress. Guivre landed after them, swaying dizzily, face covered in blood. Yvette returned Jezebel to her ball and grabbed a spare potion out of her pack as the van came to a stop near them. The driver's side door was completely missing, and there were green, blobby chunks of something all over the hood of the car and streaked on the windshield.

The Professor looked over at them from where he sat, face paler than normal. The fear and concern in his eyes was dulled by drowsiness, and it seemed like he had trouble keeping them open, but he appeared to be otherwise fine. _Rico must've had his Alakazam use hypnosis on him and Guivre or something._ He didn't get out of the van, though it looked like he wanted to do so. Next to him, Gilbert fidgeted in his seat, eyes full of excitement. If he'd been hit by hypnosis, he didn't show it. _He's having the time of his fucking life. Well, good for him._ Yvette sprayed the potion on Guivre's forehead, the jagged slash sealing up in seconds.

Injury taken care of, the Professor wordlessly returned Guivre to his Pokéball. An odd, exhausted silence settled over the two of them for a few seconds and they stayed still in the middle of the street, before Gilbert banged on the dashboard, impatient to continue the adventure. The sound seemed to wake the Professor up a bit more, and he swallowed. "Miss Fountain…" he said, his voice scratchy, then trailed off as he looked her over. His eyes widened. "What happened to your arm? Are you okay?"

The words reminded her body that she was, in fact, injured, and the gash in her upper arm suddenly burned. She shook the pain off and walked around to the passenger's side, the door still intact. She opened the door with her good arm and shoved Gilbert over to give herself a space to sit. "We're still in danger," she said through gritted teeth as the Professor took his foot of the brake. "Let's get the hell out of this city."


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing.

The story of the Professor's rather miraculous escape was nearly unbelievable.

He told it quickly, his words coming out in a jumbled, uncertain rush. Part of that was due to the stress of the last half-hour, but most of it came from the fact that he'd been passed out for a good chunk of time.

From what he had told her, it appeared that the Professor and Guivre had been ambushed shortly after Yvette had entered the apartment building. The Professor could only remember being on the street outside one minute, and then being shaken awake in a van behind the building the next.

The Professor's best guess as to what happened was that he and Guivre had been hit by a sneak hypnosis attack or something similar to that effect. The assailant, either Rico's Alakazam or his Reuniclus, had either missed Gilbert, or simply had not known about the Scraggy's presence. A good thing too, as it had been Gilbert's shaking them awake that had saved them all. He'd woken Guivre up first, right after Rico and his Alakazam had teleported back to the apartment. Guivre was able to fight the Reuniclus that had been left to guard them, and he was able to distract the psychic Pokémon long enough for Gilbert to wake the Professor.

Adrenaline and panic had allowed the Professor to shake off his grogginess long enough to get the van to start. Rico, of course, was not stupid enough to have left his keys in the van, but he had left various tools scattered about (likely in order to menace his victims with) which had allowed the Professor to start the vehicle.

"Where'd you learn how to hotwire a car?" Yvette asked, glancing at the steering wheel. He hadn't had time to screw the panel back in, so the wires hung out, dangerously exposed.

"It's a good skill to learn, in case you lose your keys," he responded casually, not taking his eyes off the road.

 _Must've lost yours a lot, if you can do it so quickly_ , Yvette thought. She didn't bother voicing it, as she knew he'd just give her another non-answer. She let the matter drop, turning her attention to the car in the next lane. The driver was keeping up with them, which worried her a little, but he was an old man with a full head of hair, so she doubted that he had anything to do with Imbert. Still, she didn't relax until the other car turned off on the next exit.

The Professor was driving northbound, towards the bridge over the Madeline River, which led out of Kiloude City towards Vainville Town. The plan was to abandon the van once they were outside of Vainville and fly back to Lumiose on their Pokémon, where Yvette would get her money, and the Professor would…well, she'd let the Professor worry about how he was going to explain all this to Lysandre. It certainly didn't look good for him, as Lysandre didn't seem like the type of person who would appreciate being deceived, especially by his fiancé.

Well, that wasn't Yvette's problem. Right now, their Pokémon were all resting in their Pokéballs, even Gilbert, who had finally fallen asleep, exhausted by the day's events. Yvette was eager to get out of the city, but anxious as to what they would find once they reached the bridge. She knew that Imbert practically owned the police in Kiloude City, and given that they hadn't been pulled over in the 10 minutes they'd been on the road, the most likely location for an ambush was on the bridge. _If it comes to that, I suppose we could still escape on our Pokémon, if we're fast enough…_

Fortunately, it seemed that perhaps it wouldn't come to that. They were close enough to see the bridge up ahead, and Yvette didn't see any police lights in the distance. Traffic was still moving moderately fast as well, so perhaps they'd make it out of here without anymore hitches after all.

Still, Yvette couldn't help but feel uneasy. Maybe they weren't going to have a confrontation with the police, but she had a feeling their ordeal wasn't over yet. Her gaze drifted to a green glob still stuck on the windshield. The Professor had told her that, in his rush to escape, he'd wound up hitting Rico's Reuniclus with the van.

"I don't know if it's dead or alive," he had said, his face ashen and voice shaky. "But it has to be in pretty bad shape…I should've gone back for it, at least…"

Yvette had given him some bland platitude to ease his guilt, but she knew it did little to help. If anything, the situation was even worse. If that Reuniclus was dead, then this would become more than just business to Rico. He'd want revenge, and no amount of money from Lysandre would stop him from going after the Professor, or herself.

"Uh, Miss Fountain," the professor said, bringing Yvette out of her worries. She turned to f ace him and jumped, startled at seeing the revolver in his free hand. The action caused her injured arm to brush against the pleather seat uncomfortably, the gash underneath the bandage burning.

"I'm sorry!" the professor said, taking his eyes off the road. "I found this gun under the seat, and…ah, I don't know how to use it, but I thought, maybe you did? I didn't mean to startle you…"he finished weakly, holding the gun out to her limply.

"No, no, it's…" Yvette sighed, embarrassed at her overreaction. He'd been holding it by the barrel, offering the grip to her as though he wished he wasn't touching it. "It's fine," she said, taking the gun. "I'm just a bit on edge right now." The Professor nodded, and looked back to the road, a guilty frown on his face.

Yvette opened the cylinder and counted the empty holes. "It's not loaded," she said, clicking the cylinder back into place. "Which is just as well. I've never been all that good with them anyway." The Professor didn't answer, keeping his focus on the road and his own thoughts. They had just gotten on the bridge. Yvette opened the glove compartment, intending on leaving the gun in there, when something rolled out and fell on the floor. "What the hell was that?" she muttered, grabbing the item before it could roll under the seat. She put the gun in the glove compartment and examined the mystery item in her hand. It was a smooth, spherical rock, a little smaller than a paperweight, silver with a gold and bronze streak in the middle. The rock was warm to the touch, similar to an evolutionary stone, but also wildly different. The energy coming off of it just felt…wrong, somehow. _Like it's trying to take something from me._ Her skin prickled, and suddenly she wanted to throw the thing out the window.

The Professor gasped before she could roll her window down to do so. "That's it!" he exclaimed, astonished. "That's the Mega Stone! It was here the whole time!" He laughed, almost hysterically. "That hitman must have just tossed it in there."

"Yeah, that sounds like Rico," Yvette mumbled as she put the Mega Stone in her bag. She felt an immediate relief the second the stone was out of her hand.

"It's actually kind of funny," the professor continued, more to himself than to Yvette. "That stone is, uh, Alakazite, the Mega Stone for Alakazam."

For some reason the thought of Rico being even more dangerous than he already was wasn't all that funny to Yvette. "Are you saying that Mega Stone could've Mega Evolved his Alakazam?"

"Well, no, not unless he had a key stone on his person." He glanced at her, and noting her uneasy expression, said "Miss Fountain, I'm sorry."

"I told you, its fine. Just jumpy, still."

"No, I mean, about everything." The car in front of them had slowed down, so he applied the brakes, eyes downcast. "I should have known that this would've gone south, somehow. But I really needed the stone for my research, so I suppose I…wasn't really thinking about how dangerous this was. Especially after the last time I talked with Imbert."

"What exactly happened -" The car in front of them honked before Yvette could ask her question, and she glanced over, her stomach tensing with anticipation. The car honked again, then began to switch lanes, and… "Shit," Yvette bit out before grabbing the Professor by the hair and pulling him down to the seat. His yelp of surprise was drowned out by a bullet crashing through the windshield and hitting the back of the van.

"Fuck," Yvette said, voice rough and ears ringing. Two more bullets went through the windshield, followed by one that must've hit the front of the van. She dared a quick peak over the dashboard and immediately ducked right back down. Rico was still alive and right in front of them, accompanied by his Alakazam. She hadn't been able to tell if he was injured from his previous encounter with her, as she hadn't gotten that good a look at him in the split second she'd had to examine him.

 _There's no way he crashed into that building unscathed, though. Maybe we can use that._ "Hit the gas," she whispered to the Professor, who was covering his head with his hands. He didn't question her, merely moving his foot from the break to the gas pedal, while still crouching down out of view. But the van didn't budge an inch. The screech sound of the van revving indicated that the wheels were moving, but something was holding the van in place, keeping them from mowing Rico down.

 _Fuck. It's that Alakazam probably._ Another bullet went through the windshield, this one hitting the seat right above Yvette's head. _I'm gonna go deaf if Rico doesn't kill me_.

"What do I do, Miss Fountain?" the Professor asked in a hushed, fearful tone. He kept his head pressed down into the seat cushion, likely to keep any falling glass out of his eyes, but she could imagine the frightened expression on his face.

Before she could think of an answer, something crashed into the van from behind, hard, the force of the impact smacking both Yvette and the Professor against the dashboard. The van propelled itself forward for a few seconds before skittering to a stop, miraculously missing the other vehicles on the road.

Yvette picked herself off the floor, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head and shaking off the dizziness. The Professor had managed to stay mostly on his seat, but he appeared a bit dazed, and she could see the start of a nasty bruise forming over his left eye. Not having time to worry about that, she pushed herself against him and grabbed the wheel and looked out the near-shattered windshield, searching frantically for Rico and his Alakazam. She couldn't see the Alakazam, but she found Rico off to the right, on his hands and knees from having rolled out the van's path. Without hesitating, she hit the gas, turning the wheel towards the right.

The van, damaged from both the crash and bullets Rico had shot into it, moved shakily, making an odd sputtering noise that suggested that it would not be moving for very long. But Yvette didn't need very long, as she drove towards the still prone, and obviously injured Rico. He saw her coming and scrambled up, limping as fast as he could out of the van's path. She kept driving, slower than she would've liked, practically herding him to the bridge's railing.

He could still move pretty fast, considering his injuries (his left arm dangled unnaturally and his right leg seemed to move a little slower than his left). But while he may have been able to out run her van, there were other, intact cars travelling on the bridge that he had to deal with. A small white car came to a screeching stop just as Rico managed to hop onto the railing, narrowly avoiding certain death. The driver, likely confused by all the chaos on the road, backed up uncertainly, as though to distance themself from whatever insanity was going on around them.

Sensing her chance to end this absurd fight, Yvette hit the gas one last time and smashed into the railing, which Rico still clung to desperately. She didn't hit him directly, but railing shook with enough force to loosen his grip, and he fell right off, into the river below.

For a brief, brief moment, there was nothing but the chug of the badly damaged van and the heavy breathing of its two occupants to fill the silence. Yvette pushed herself off the Professor, whose arms were covering his face, as though to block out the existence of the last few minutes (and yes, this ordeal had only lasted a few minutes at most, and not the hours that it had felt like to Yvette).

The white car that had been so unintentionally helpful during the fight passed them by, the baffled driver gawking at them as she drove away as quickly as possible. She wasn't the only one, as the fellow who had rammed into them stood outside of his vehicle, staring open mouthed at the scene before him, his cell phone in his hand. _Shit, he's gonna call the police,_ Yvette thought as she grabbed Jezebel's Pokéball out of her bag. "Go get Guivre," she spat out, "The police will be here soon."

The Professor moved his arms away from his face slowly, and Yvette could see that he was still in a daze from his head hitting either the steering wheel or the dashboard. "Shit, I hope you don't have a concussion," she said, though her own head throbbed worryingly. She reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the Pokéball he had stuffed in there after returning his Charizard. "Time to go" she repeated as she opened the van door and released both Pokémon before climbing out herself.

The action seemed to bring the Professor back to himself. "Ah, right," he muttered, moving across the seat and out the door, careful to avoid the bits of glass that covered the seat. Once outside of the van, they quickly got on their respective Pokémon and flew off the bridge, just as sirens began to blare in the distance.

* * *

They were about an hour away from that awful bridge when the Professor said, "Oh, I left that backpack in the van." It was the first thing that either of them had said to each other during their travels, and it was said in the same tone that one would say 'Oh, I left my phone in the charger.' Yvette couldn't tell if his unaffected tone came from lingering shock or if he legitimately felt that the loss of two-million yen wasn't that big of a deal. Given that two-million yen was pocket change to a man like Lysandre, she figured that it was the least of his problems, and she told him so.

"Yeah, I know," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, an action she was quickly coming accustomed to seeing from him. His head injury, while no doubt as unpleasant as her own injury was, thankfully didn't appear to be a concussion, just a really ugly bruise. Yvette wondered if Lysandre would use that as an excuse to deduct from her pay. _If he chooses to pay me at all, after this fiasco. Fuck. What a mess._

As though he had read her mind, the Professor turned to her with a reassuring look on his face. "Miss Fountain, I know this didn't go as planned at all, but you needn't worry about Lysandre blaming you for any of it. He'll know that the fault was all mine, and you'll get the money that was promised you." He gave her a smile, but Yvette felt an unease creeping up within her at his words.

"Is he, uh, going to mad at you?" Yvette asked, though she knew it was really none of her business.

The Professor turned away for a moment, idly stroking the back of Guivre's neck. "Well, he's certainly not going to be happy, that's for sure. I wasn't exactly honest with him. And he's going to have to smooth over this situation with Imbert, which I know he's going to hate." He sighed and ran a hand through his wind-blown hair. "What's even worse is that I have nothing to show for it."

"What do you mean?" Yvette asked, confused.

He looked back at her, frowning sadly. "We didn't even get the Mega-Stone in the end. It's still in that van."

"No it isn't. I put it in my bag, remember?" Yvette opened the flap of her bag, then thought better of it and closed it. "I'm not going to take it out while we're flying, but it's definitely in there."

"That's fantastic!" he exclaimed, any apprehension over explaining himself to Lysandre temporality forgotten. "I must not have seen you put it in there, or perhaps I just forgot, who knows! Who cares!" He grinned at her, this time genuinely. "Miss Fountain, you've saved my life, and you've made sure that this whole nightmare wasn't for nothing. I…I don't know how I can possible thank you!" He was leaning toward her, as though he wanted to hug her or something, and appeared dangerously close to falling off of Guivre. The Charizard gave a chastising grunt, and the Professor righted himself sheepishly.

"Eh, don't worry about. Just doing my job." Suddenly an idea came to her, and she said "Although, next time you need to get a Mega-Stone, or something else for you research, maybe you should just hire me to do it. It would be less dangerous for both of us."

The Professor's face turned pale at the words, and he seemed to suddenly remember his current circumstances. "You're probably right," he said, eyes downcast. "I used to be a lot better at this sort of thing when I was your age. I suppose I'm just too used to easy living. Or just too old." He chuckled bleakly to himself.

Her curiosity demanded that she ask him more about his mysterious past, but she knew that now probably wasn't the best time. Still, she couldn't stop herself from asking "So what exactly happened the first time you met with Imbert? You mentioned that he asked you to do something you couldn't."

"Oh, that," he replied, and for the first time, anger seemed to cloud his features. "Well, I don't know if you know this, but Imbert has five children, four daughters and a son."

Yvette nodded. Imbert's daughters ran the Battle Maison and were famous for being skilled trainers, but she had never heard of his son.

"His son is, to put it lightly, a spoiled brat who is completely out of control, and has no interest in being anything other than that." The Professor's frown tightened as he went on. "Imbert was willing to just give me the Mega-Stone in exchange for giving him a place on my research team. Despite the fact that the man had no background in any kind of biological science, and had no experience in any sort of Pokémon-related occupation." The Professor's face twisted up in frustration. "And when I actually met him, he showed me no respect, nor any interest in the research that my lab does. He only cared about getting his father off of his back for a little while. I had no choice but to refuse this offer."

"And naturally, Imbert wasn't very pleased with that," Yvette said.

"No, he wasn't. I won't repeat what he said, but it most certainly wasn't very nice. Or politically correct." The anger melted from his face, leaving only a weary sadness behind. "I suppose it seems pretty foolish now, given what we've just been through. I should've just said yes, and given him some entry-level secretarial work until his father would allow him to quit."

Yvette couldn't help but agree with that statement, but she could understand why he hadn't wanted to do that. Plenty of noble children had high-powered positions bought for them, and while Imbert technically wasn't nobility, he had enough money and power to do just that for his own son. It was plainly obvious to Yvette that the Professor had not come from a privileged background, and likely wanted to avoid such practices as much as possible while he was Regional Professor.

"What's done is done, I suppose," the Professor said. "No point in thinking about what I should've done when I need to figure out how to explain all this to Lysandre."

Yvette nodded, wondering just how he was going to do that.

* * *

In the end, she never did find out what the Professor said to Lysandre. They had arrived back in Lumiose in the early evening, and went straight to the Fleur de Lis building. The Professor didn't even stop at the secretary's desk, just headed to Lysandre's office without a word. Yvette had followed him, ignoring the stares of the employee's still bustling about the office.

Lysandre had nearly jumped out of his chair upon seeing them, immediately rushing to the Professor's side as Yvette shut the door behind them. Lysandre stood very close to the Professor, gently touching the bruising on the left side of his face. There was concern in his eyes, but he didn't say anything, didn't even ask if they were alright, and the Professor didn't say anything either, and Yvette had no idea what to say, so they all stood in the office, a tense, uncertain atmosphere between the three of them.

The Professor found his voice first. "I got the Mega-Stone," he began tentatively. "But there were a few setbacks..."

"Yes, I am aware." There was no inflection in Lysandre's voice, but he appeared to press harder on the Professor's face, causing the man to wince. "Imbert just called to inform me of those setbacks. It was a very long conversation."

The Professor smiled and it would've been a very attractive smile had his face not been drained of color. "I can explain?" He didn't sound very sure that he could.

Lysandre let his hand drop from the Professor's face and approached Yvette. "Miss Fountain, thank you for seeing the Professor out of Kiloude City safely. Your pay will be deposited directly into your bank account, along with a generous bonus. You may go now."

She didn't move from her spot, despite Lysandre's very obvious dismissal. His jaw tightened, and he said "If there is any trouble with your account, please give my secretary a call tomorrow. Otherwise, our business is concluded." His voice had a very dangerous edge to it.

Yvette glanced at the Professer before opening her bag and pulling out the Mega-Stone. She walked over to him, and handed him the unpleasant little stone, and as she did so, their eyes met for a brief second. Unsure of what else to say, she muttered a quick "Good luck," under her breath before turning and walking out of the tense office, feeling Lysandre's icy eyes on her back as she left.

She took a taxi back to her apartment building, giving her Mandibuzz a break. She went straight to bed upon arrival and feel into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, when she checked her bank balance, she found that she was a million yen richer, which almost made it worth the throbbing headache she had woken up with.


End file.
